Archive for the ‘Words Words Words’ Category

Writing journal – issue 2

Word Count: 6009 Stress-level: Medium

Yeah, it's only been a few days. Sorry. I'm chomping at the bit a little. I
promise that i won't send you one of these every two days. Honest. I'm just a little panicked because i posted an excerpt (completely unedited, yikes!) of my book. It's literally the first 600 words i wrote.

So of course being me, i have to throw out a hundred disclaimers, just in
case someone actually goes and reads it.

Let's get it over with;

During the month before NaNoWriMo i studiously avoided planning the plot for my novel, any time a fabulous idea came to mind i abandoned it on the side of the road, crying. “I shun you!” I cried. There was this one idea that bugged me over and over, enough that i formed a mantra to counter it:

I will not write a deeply autobiographical story about unresolved past relationships
I will not write a deeply autobiographical story about unresolved past relationships
I will not write a deeply autobiographical story about unresolved past relationships

Now NaNoWriMo is here and i've sat down to pound out my new novel.

It's a deeply autobiographical story about my unresolved past relationships.

The lead character is, of course, a thinly disguised version of me. Some of
the events in the story are ground up versions of highly disparate events in my past, sort of mashed together in a devil-may-care (read: horribly biased) fashion. I even have myself as another secondary character in the book. What am i doing? I wrote myself into my own book as two different characters! Gawd! I'll be looking forward to winning the “most self obsessed writer of the year” award in December. But see, it's cathartic and metaphorical and…
Ah, never mind, it's hard to explain.

Sigh. Ah well. At least i'll get it out of my system. Right?

There is one thing though. Playing the IF game, you must know:

IF i finish this novel and
IF i don't immediately burn it and
IF i decide to take the time to edit it and rewrite it and
IF i decide to format the book, design a cover, and self-publish it through
a shady print-on-demand company and
IF you actually get one of the something-like ten copies i have printed.

I want you to know one thing.

I am not now, nor have ever been, a drug dealer. This is key to keep in mine if you read my novel. I was not a drug dealer in real life. Got it? Me + Lots of Drugs = Did not happen.

Also, and equally important, I have never taken heroin, so it would be impossible for me to be a heroin addict as is the character in my book. No
seriously, Mom, it's just a story.

I don't know why i'm a heroin addicted drug dealer in the story! It just
seemed like a good idea at the time! Look, it's metaphorical, it represents
the deeply seated unacknowledged anger problems i had at the time… Or
something like that. Well, it also gives me an excuse to write half the
story as pretentious surrealist drivel. Oh, this is really cool, i'm also
going to write half the novel in first person present tense and the other
half in third person past tense. Clever huh? (sheesh, when did i turn into
such an artsy dork? “I'd like to thank the academy for this award which is
about me, me and me.”)

While i'm at it, since i posted the opening scene of the novel on my
NaNoWriMo account. I should mention, THIS NEVER HAPPENED. IT'S A STORY! Mom stop crying. (Although it is true that there really was a wonderful Greek restaurant where i used to live back in Chicago.)

Ok, i'm going back into my writing cave.

Writing journal – issue 1

Word Count: 0 Stress-level: High

So tomorrow i'm gonna start writing a novel.

As i write this i realize is that this journal may not actually be as funny
as J and i's tour journal proportedly was.

It's much easier to make comedy out that one time when a bear tried to roll our truck over to eat us, than it will be to make you laugh when i'm whining about how hard it is to write a coherent sentence, how much my butt hurts and dammnit i'm out of Cheetoes.

I've been diligently preparing for my writing extravaganza. Amassing bags of salty food, 400 hours of vocal-less music, and telling everyone i know that they can't count on me for anything, at all, ever, for the next month.

I've even made a sign for my door. it says:

I'M WRITING
Unless the house is on fire,
back slowly away from my room…
Seriously, just walk away.

I explained to my housemates that i only want to be disturbed by sincere
offers of sex, wrist-rubs, or warm meals. I'm really hoping i don't spend
the next month in my bedroom though. I fully intend to play up the
“serious-writer-in-the-cafe” thing. Maybe i'll also make dates with people
where i sit near them, they don't talk to me (except to offer more Cheetoes) and i write write write. Doesn't that sound nice? Just think, when i'm big and famous, you can say, “You know that scene where the Pope is hangliding with Bono? He wrote that in my living room. I rubbed his wrists.”

Lately i'm starting to feel a bit like a misunderstood genius, or worse yet
a misunderstood not-genius. When i've mentioned that i'm going to write a
novel in November, i've gotten exactly two kinds of responses. They fit
perfectly into these two categories:

A.) Hey! You should turn your tour journals into a book, man those were
funny!

B.) Huh? Why? What makes you think you can write a novel?

Uh, so, why am i writing a novel? Well, it's probably not for fame and
fortune, I'm still shocked that when i mention the single best most famous
and generally smartest and coolest science fiction writer in the whole damn world, Ursula Le Guin, most people say, “Who?”

And don't talk to me about fortune. A good friend of mine who has published like 9000 novels still lives just as close to the poverty line as me. Orson Scott Card (who?) couldn't make a living off of writing even after he wrote what is probably the biggest sci-fi book ever.

Anyway, i think i'm mainly doing it so i have something to complain about.
At least this month i have an excuse to feel stressed out.

If you'd like to see how i'm doing, there will be a constant word count
posted on my profile here:

www.nanowrimo.org/userinfo.php

Tune in next week, where i will reveal the deep hidden secret; that writing
is really hard.